


transcendent supernova

by cosmicpoet



Series: momoharu week 2018 [1]
Category: Dangan Ronpa - All Media Types, New Dangan Ronpa V3: Everyone's New Semester of Killing
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, F/M, Honeymoon, Hurt/Comfort, Reincarnation, Weddings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-08
Updated: 2018-04-08
Packaged: 2019-04-20 10:36:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,334
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14259126
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cosmicpoet/pseuds/cosmicpoet
Summary: Momota and Harukawa are on their way to their honeymoon, finally finding that their lives are completely peaceful. But something - perhaps destiny - stops them in their tragic tracks.





	transcendent supernova

Momota smiles at Harukawa, his mouth still full of the burger he’s eating from the fast food restaurant that they’re sitting in. His eyes are lit with happiness, and he stares at her; in his eyes, she can see the most beautiful, unadulterated love that she’s ever felt, and she knows that he is genuine in his emotions towards her. After all, he himself declared them to be soulmates only yesterday, as she stood at the altar, trying her hardest not to sweat through her makeup, shifting in her long, white dress, waiting for him to say the words she’d never thought she’d hear directed towards her.

“I love you,” he says, still eating.

“Disgusting,” she replies, “chew your food, idiot.”

“What! I just wanna declare my love for my _wife,_ my dearest Harumaki.”

“You’re so sentimental,” she laughs, shoving a handful of chips in her mouth, “and you’re absolutely bonkers. Making me eat chips at three in the morning.”

“It’s an airport,” he replies, “time ain’t real here.”

“I guess you’re right,” Harukawa says, “and besides, we’re on our honeymoon. We can kinda do what we want for the next two weeks.”

“Hawaii, huh? It’s going to be amazing.”

“So what’s the plan?”

“Get a taxi to the hotel after our flight, tell everyone we’re unpacking, and…”

“And?”

“Well…there’s a certain marriage tradition involving consummation.”

She smiles, a wide grin which soon turns into a brilliant laugh. Every worry of her short twenty-five years has now dissipated into the most beautiful kind of love; as she reaches for his hand across the table, their eyes meet, and Harukawa feels like she felt yesterday, like she felt when she met him all those years ago. Completely, utterly smitten. And totally safe.

“Still,” she says, “I’m scared. You know I haven’t flown before.”

“We’ll be fine, Harumaki! Me and my grandparents used to fly _all_ the time.”

“But…what if…”

“I promise you, I’ll keep you safe. Like I always tell you, we’re made of the same stuff as stars. And we’re strong, brave, and wonderful – nothing can touch us, yeah? At least…nothing can touch you whilst I’m alive.”

Again, she smiles.

“Now come on,” he says, holding her hand, “I think they’re calling our gate for boarding.”

Trusting him completely, Harukawa lets him pull her from her seat as she follows him towards their gate. When they walk down the corridor to board their plane, she notices that he keeps her close, occasionally putting an arm around her shoulder, presumably to reassure her. Once they’re in their seats, he turns to her and smiles widely.

“This is going to be the best two weeks of my life,” he says.

“Me too,” she replies, “but I’m gonna try and sleep on the flight. It’s long, and I…I don’t really wanna sit here all anxious for hours.”

“That’s a good idea. Rest your head on my shoulder, and here,” he takes his jacket off and covers her with it, “let’s get you nice and warm. When we wake up, we’ll be in complete bliss.”

“Mhm,” she murmurs, “that’ll be nice.”

And, resting her head on Momota’s shoulder, she lets her eyes close gently. When the plane takes off, she’s already half asleep, and the runway – which she’d been so terrified of – lulls her into a full, deep sleep.

When she wakes, they’re not in Hawaii. Her body jolts around in her seat as the plane shakes, and she sees Momota’s pale face look directly at her.

“Listen, Harumaki,” he says, a hint of shakiness in his voice, although he tries to surpress it, “everything is fine. It’s just turbulence, and it’ll be over soon. I promise. I promised to keep you safe. Hold my hand.”

Terrified, she grips onto him and unintentionally digs her nails into him, but he doesn’t wince. Oxygen masks drop from the ceiling, and Momota desperately reaches for hers, securing it onto her face. The plane drops once more, and her stomach feels light and sick; it’s like there’s something in her throat that’s stuck in the liminal space between vomit and digestion, and she panics. Looking over at her husband for reassurance, she sees that his eyes are closed.

“Momota? Momota! Kaito, please,” she screams as she tries to shake him awake. When her hands find their way to his face, something hot and sticky coats her fingers, and she pulls them away from his face to see them covered in blood. On the floor, next to their seats, an unopened suitcase sits, before it flies down the aisle and Harukawa notices the blood that stains the faint edge of it; she puts two and two together, and realises that Momota must have been hit on the head.

“Someone, please,” she yells, “help us!”

Nobody replies.

Trying to push hard onto Momota’s head wound, her own oxygen mask falls off, and she makes no attempt to put it on again. Instead, she fumbles for the mask next to hers, and fixes it onto his mouth.

“Breathe, dammit,” she whispers, crying, “I need you.”

Still, he doesn’t reply. As she sobs, begging him to say something, her hands rest on his chest, begging for a breath, for any sign of life at all. The plane falls further, and she takes a sharp breath, painfully aware of the fate that awaits her. When the sea looms in onto her future – not the beautiful, blue waves of Hawaii – but the coldness of inevitability, she closes her eyes, and lets the pressure of the crash envelop her in darkness.

* * *

 

An old man and an even older woman sit by two matching graves. One is sobbing, the other is solemn, as they place a cross gently onto one of the burial sites. Both graves mean something to them, something taken too soon and far too tragically; as they sit, the sun goes down and nothing but the distant wind disturbs their mourning. They stay until night, when a young man approaches them.

“A-Are you here…for…them?” The young man points at the two graves.

The old man nods.

“Me t-too,” the young man says, “I’m S-Saihara. I was…I am…Harukawa…Momota…I was their friend.”

“Momota was our grandson,” the old woman says.

“I-I’m sorry,” Saihara says.

“Us too,” the man says, a distant echo of mourning in his voice.

“I…just wanted to l-leave these flowers,” Saihara tells them, “I hope you don’t m-mind me bothering you.”

“Not at all, son,” Momota’s grandfather says, “it’s nice to know that they exist in places other than our withering memories.”

“I’ll…never forget them.”

Saihara sits with Momota’s grandparents, all three of them silently sobbing as they look up at a sky laced with the most beautiful stars.

* * *

 

Harukawa feels her whole body burning. Her arms, legs, face, fingers – _everything –_ is on fire, something warm and searing rips her flesh from her mortal body, and she awakens into a blackness that she finds illuminated only by a faint purple glow in the distance. Although she no longer has physical legs, she finds the will within her to move towards the light, something in her heart yearning for the warmth of the distance; it feels so familiar.

Her own deep red shine echoes across the midnight as she approaches the inevitability of the afterlife. Enveloping herself in darkness, she pushes towards the purple light, and finds herself engulfed in the possibility of a second chance; something to hold her, not to cool her down, but to burn alongside her, forever into infinity.

In her mind, as she approaches the light, she hears a voice in her mind.

“I’ve been waiting for you.”

She would recognise Momota’s voice anywhere, in any life, in any time. And he holds her close, neither of them inhabiting physical bodies any more, but both feeling comfort in the afterglow of their tragic deaths. The sky shines bright with stars, and they are home. A transcendent supernova of love.

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you liked this! This was written for Momoharu Week 2018, which is an event I'm running with my friend Dodo! The prompts are 'Pregame' and 'Reincarnation', and I chose Reincarnation! If you want to check out Momoharu Week, [here's](http://www.twitter.com/momoharuevents) the twitter!


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